


From Peter, With Love

by spideysmjs



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Best Friends to Lovers, Canon Character Death (You Know the One), Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff, Grief/Comfort, Growing Up, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-22 12:24:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22716025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spideysmjs/pseuds/spideysmjs
Summary: Although he likes her smile and she swears he looks at her a couple of times during the Charlie Brown special, she’s not quite ready to ask him if he wants to be her friend. She knows she’ll do it when she builds enough courage to ask and maybe, hopefully, he’ll say yes.But right now, those little words scribbled on a light pink paper is enough to make her heart feel as warm as melted chocolate and as soft as a stuffed bear.And it feels really nice.Five times Peter gives Michelle something for Valentine's Day.
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Comments: 98
Kudos: 225





	1. one

Michelle’s dad takes her to school every day, and today, it takes precisely 23 minutes: 18 minutes to walk out of their apartment on the third floor in Queens and 5 minutes to convince her that she’ll have a good day.

Her grip around his hands loosens up when he promises her that he’ll let her stay up thirty whole minutes later than her bedtime so she can try to finish the last chapter of  _ The Book Thief. _

She starts to squeeze it again until he explains to her that everyone in her class is going to give her a Valentine – just like how she has a paper bag of 21 cards she had ripped perfectly at the perforated lines to hand to her classmates.

But classmates are all they’ll ever be.

Being six years old is a lot more miserable when your best friend isn’t in your class like she was in kindergarten last year. She and Liz were basically in different cities the entire school day except for recess and the fifteen minutes she waits for her dad to pick her up again.

And today is a pink, red, and white decorated holiday, those colors seen in the hearts hanging from Mrs. Douglas’ classroom ceiling and on the sweaters of other kids who decided to dress up on spirit day.

Michelle wears a light grey knit sweater and her favorite blue jeans after convincing her dad to go against the school spirit despite hearing, “You’ll be the only one, ‘Chelle.” 

Her father was right. But she doesn’t mind because it’s still chilly outside and she doesn’t own sweaters in pink, red, or white. She promises. 

When Mrs. Douglas transitions from spelling to math, Michelle can feel her heart race as she turns around and squints at the clock hanging at the back of the wall. Thirty minutes until lunch, and then another thirty until they come back from lunch and exchange Valentine’s cards and watch  _ Be My Valentine, Charlie Brown _ as voted by the class yesterday. 

Mrs. Douglas is even allowing them to sit on the floor to watch. Michelle hopes they don’t turn off the lights because she’d rather bury herself in her book and get more reading points so she can finally look at the seventh grade reading level bin.

At lunch, she and Liz sit back to back because they’re not allowed to leave their respective teacher’s lunch tables. Liz tries to sneak her an extra jello cup when the proctor isn’t looking, and MJ hands her two packets of fruit snacks.

They also exchange heart-shaped cards because they promised to make their own for each other rather than buying the lame ones at the store that everyone buys for each other. 

Michelle reluctantly waves goodbye to Liz after fifteen minutes of playing double dutch, the dread of returning to the classroom she can’t stand being in because all Eugene does is brag about his new iPhone and make fun of Peter Parker for needing glasses.

She thinks about Peter a lot. 

There’s something about his floppy hair and sad eyes that make Michelle wonder how he’s doing. One time, when her father nearly forgot to pick her up, she overheard the principal talking to Mrs. Douglas about how Peter needs to be treated with care because his parents aren’t around. 

Michelle used to wonder where they went until she asked her dad and learned that they aren’t coming back, that they went where her mom had gone when Michelle was three and her baby sister was born. 

In a way they have something in common and, sometimes, she wants to talk to Peter. Not about his parents but about the way she likes his Princess Leia lunch box, his metal rimmed glasses, and how he already knows his times tables. 

She won’t tell him any of that though because telling him would mean explaining why and Michelle doesn’t exactly know why she feels the way she does. In fact, she doesn’t know what _this_ feeling is – Michelle just really enjoys watching him. 

“It’s time to do the card exchange, pups,” Mrs. Douglas says, standing up from her desk after the timer goes off from silent reading. Michelle dog tags the corner of chapter seven after rereading the last sentence she left off of. “Remember, if you’re handing out cards  _ everyone  _ has to have one.”

Betty shoots her hand up in the sky, quick and eager. 

“Thank you for raising your hand, Betty.”

“Can I pass out my brownie bites?” Betty bounces in her seat. Mrs. Brant always bakes something when the class is celebrating a holiday, the same way Eugene’s driver drops off a pack of juice boxes right before the movie starts. 

Michelle spills out her folded cards, looking for the only one that she took longer on – the one she had begged her dad to get at the dollar store because there were stars and aliens on it. She rereads her message again. It’s the only message she personally crafted.

_ To: Peter  _

_ From: Michelle :) _

_ Happy Valentine’s Day. I hope you get lots of chocolate.  _

She folds in closed again smiling at it, hoping Peter will enjoy the sentiment. She and her classmates do their rounds and stop by every table, and a part of her wants to pretend that she forgot to make Eugene’s card, but Mrs. Douglas will find out because Eugene will tattle tale after he sees everyone else get one from her.

When she sits back down in her seat, she sits with her hands neatly folded on the desk, waiting for instructions for the movie. She sees her classmates snicker and tease each other for whatever reason, but then notices that Peter ducks down when her face is in his vicinity. 

Her cheeks feel warmer than usual.

Mrs. Douglas calms everyone down, setting a timer for them to look through the cards if they so wished. There’s really only one card she cares about, the card address to her and from Peter Parker. 

The 3x3 card makes her heart pound faster, and even though she knows Peter had to give everyone something, Michelle takes her time slipping her fingers in between the heart-shaped sticker not wanting any part of the flimsy material rip.

_ To: Michelle _

_ From: Peter _

_ I like your smile.  _

_ Happy valentines day. _

She reads it, bringing her hand to her mouth as she traces her lips knowing one part of her tooth always pops out. Her dad calls it her lucky tooth, like how Nemo has his fin.

She re-reads the message before shuffling through the other less important ones.

Then again right before Mrs. Douglas tells them to sit on the floor. 

Michelle squeezes herself in a spot three people away from Peter because it’s close enough to be near him but far enough that she doesn’t have to talk to him during the movie. 

Although he likes her smile and she swears he looks at her a couple of times during the Charlie Brown special, she’s not quite ready to ask him if he wants to be her friend. She knows she’ll do it when she builds enough courage to ask and maybe, hopefully, he’ll say yes. 

But right now, those little words scribbled on a light pink paper is enough to make her heart feel as warm as melted chocolate and as soft as a stuffed bear. 

And it feels really nice. 


	2. two

Peter is in her class again this year, and after an entire summer waiting around to come up with a plan to possibly ask him to be friends, Michelle finds courage to speak to him in the form of offering him her fruit snacks at lunch.

When her father asks why she wants three instead of two for her and Liz, she avoids talking to him about a boy because he’ll make fun of her in the same way he does when he kisses her good night and laughs at her classic Boys II Men poster hanging above her bedroom.

“I get hungry after lunch,” she lied. “Having an extra fruit snack will make me not hungry.” 

It took her a couple of months to really execute her plan, but on that chilly November day when she could feel the leaves crunch against the soles of her shoes, she sat next to Peter Parker at the lunch table and pushed a fruit snack in front of him. 

His eyes widened behind his thick framed glasses and his body froze in a sudden movement before relaxing into his shoulders. He looked at her, smiled, and handed her his string cheese.

“My aunt says we can’t buy fruit snacks because they cost too much for us,” he explained. “Thanks.”

“You too. For the cheese,” Michelle replied, wanting to bang her head against the metal tables because it’s like she’s forgotten how to talk despite having an intensive vocabulary for a seven year old.

Every day after that, Peter sits with Michelle first at lunch pulling out two things of string cheese – one for him and one for Michelle. They talk about the books she reads and the different science fiction movies he watches with his uncle, both of them paying attention to each other with a feeling of happiness so innocent and new that they don’t realize that they spend all of recess on the tables just talking.

Michelle no longer despises going to classes because Liz isn’t in the same one (again), and it’s because of the brown-eyed boy that stares at her from across the room when he thinks she’s not looking even though she’s hiding behind her curly hair. 

School isn’t boring any more and her dad’s let her pick her outfits for an entire year now even if she wears mismatching socks on purpose. 

On Valentine’s Day, she digs up a light pink sweater that she leaves at the bottom of her dresser, deciding that maybe it’s okay to be in school spirit for the day. 

Her dad smiles when she walks out of her room, saying absolutely nothing and offering a hand for her to hold as they head over to school. 

“Got your cards?” he asks with a tone in his voice that begs curiosity, Michelle tilting her head at the way her dad sounds slightly different than usual. 

“Yep,” she answers, thinking about the secret card she made long after she knew her dad was asleep knowing that she’d never hear the end of it if he found out that she was writing notes to a boy. 

“You seem a little happy for Valentine’s Day,” he hums while looking both ways before crossing the street with Michelle. “I thought you didn’t like that your teacher makes you bring cards for everyone.” 

She shrugs. “It’s not bad. And that was last year, Dad. This year is different.” 

“Okay, okay,” he backs off. “You’re not sad about not having Liz in your classes anymore?” 

“There’s always lunch,” she answers. And Peter, she thinks. 

“I’m happy you feel comfortable,” he affirms – something he always does because he promised he’d always be there to support her, and although the promise was birthed from a place of grief, it’s grown into a natural routine that Michelle finds happiness.

“I have a few friends in there,” she responds. “Betty always compliments my glitter pens and Peter is really nice to me.”

“Peter Parker?” he perks up. Michelle nods. “I always see his uncle, Ben, at PTO meetings. He never fails to ask me how I’m doing. He’s a really good man.” 

“Peter says Ben lets him stay up late sometimes if Peter finishes his homework early because they can watch an old episode of Star Trek together. He sounds cool.” 

Her dad chuckles. “I let you stay up and read even though you don’t like hanging out with me. So I think I’m cool, too.” 

“I know,” Michelle giggles. 

When they reach the school, she doesn’t squeeze his hands tight before leaving and instead, tip toes high up so he can leave her a kiss on the forehead before leaving. He says I love you and she says it back, Michelle glancing back for good measure to smile at him before she enters the classroom.

Mr. Johnson decorates the room similar to Mrs. Douglas did the year before, but this time the pinks, reds, and whites make Michelle excited to unravel all of her cards and give her special one to Peter. It’s nothing different from the one that Liz will get, but it’s also far from what she’d give to Eugene. 

She peeks into her card for Peter, reading the message Michelle knows takes a lot more bravery than the one she had written the year before. 

_To: Peter_

_From: Michelle_

_You’re the best person to sit with at every table._

She can almost feel her heart racing, not wanting Peter to think she likes him in _that_ way – that Michelle just laughs at his jokes and wants to hear more stories about Aunt May and Uncle Ben, the same way he asks about her dad and what they do on the weekends. 

Her foot shakes endlessly as she works on her spelling. 

Her fingers drum against the desk during silent reading, Michelle not being able to finish as much as she could of _Chamber of Secrets_ before Mr. Johnson announces that it’s time to put books away and take the candy and cards out. 

Mr. Johnson had them make their own boxes for their classmates to drop cards off before they put on _High School Musical_ on the projector. She makes her rounds, quickly dropping off the card for Peter, trying to bury it underneath the cards that were already there so that he can find her card last. 

She sits back down, not even wanting to see if Peter left a card or not, only wanting to watch his reaction to what she wrote. 

And boy, was it worth it because Peter’s cheeks turn pink and his glasses almost slip from his face from looking down at the heart-shaped paper, Peter pushing the frames higher on the bridge of his nose after catching them.

When she’s finally ready, she searches through _Disney_ themed cards from Cindy and generic pun cards from Eugene, fate coming into play when of course Peter’s card is the last in the pile that Michelle comes across. 

She nearly rips it open, but takes her time as she does with all the things she cares about. 

_To Michelle_

_From Peter_

_Will you be my best friend?_

She grins, holding the card to her heart and thinking about how exactly one year ago, Michelle would have never had the courage to even speak to Peter. But now, having exchanged months worth of fruit snacks for string cheese and family stories, Michelle finds herself scooting next to Peter on the floor of the classroom, leaning to his ear and whispering _yes_ when the movie starts.

He smiles, holding up his hand and pulling out his pinky for Michelle to loop hers around his and swear forever that they’ll be best friends. 

When Michelle gets home that night, she finds her special box in the closet and places her new card next to the old one from Peter before going to bed. 

Still, Michelle won’t tell Peter about this. She’ll keep this feeling a secret because she doesn’t want to lose her best friend of officially one day even though she’s slowly learning what _this_ feeling means and why she enjoys catching glances with him throughout the school day.

And as she drifts off into sleep after finishing one chapter of her book, she can feel her heart beating a little faster than usual when she thinks about Peter. 


	3. three

She lands on her knees in the dirt, Michelle already knowing her dad will be upset at the grass-stained and ripped jeans she’ll throw into the laundry basket after she gets home from school. 

But she can’t help it – Eugene’s chasing her really fast because she has the football in her hands and she needs to make it to the other side so that she and Peter can win the game they made up a couple of weeks ago for recess. 

Michelle has to put in more energy to play the game because Peter has asthma and he can’t run too much during lunch or else he has to use his emergency inhaler and the nurses will have to tell Ben and May and he’ll get in trouble for not following his doctor’s instructions. 

So her dad can’t really be mad at her because Michelle’s simply just being here for her best friend in time of need and if she’s not there for her best friend, then he’ll probably hate her forever and drop the title and then Michelle won’t have a best friend since Liz moved to New Jersey and they don’t even talk anymore and–

“Chelle, I’m just telling you to be careful with your clothes,” her dad interrupts her, though she didn’t even realize she was babbling her thoughts out loud over dinner that night. 

“Sorry,” she takes a deep breath, swallowing all the words she hadn’t even said yet. Her mind was racing from all the energy she still had from earlier at lunch. “I’ll be more careful.” 

“Thank you,” he says. “It’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” she mumbles. 

“You’re not going to give out cards like before?” 

“It’s optional now.” 

“But I thought you liked doing it.” 

Michelle shrugs. It’s not that she ever liked it in the first place – not really. It’s that she’s written Peter cards since first grade and they’ve been best friends forever now, so there’s really no point in giving him another card that he’ll probably throw away anyway, even if she’s kept every single one of his since the first time. 

It’s not like she’ll ever admit that. Never. 

And she swore a week ago during lunch, Eugene and Brad called the cards lame and Peter laughed and didn’t disagree. So. 

“They’re kind of lame,” she says. 

“Showing affection is never lame,” her dad stuck his fork into a piece of broccoli. 

“I guess,” Michelle says. “But when Ms. Lee mentioned doing something for Valentine’s Day every sighed. No one wants to exchange cards.” 

“What about Peter? He doesn’t want to either?” 

“I don’t think so.” 

“Alright,” he gives up. “So no cards?” 

“Nope,” she answers, shaking her legs up and down and picking at the dried up wound on her knee resisting the urge to scratch it all the way off – her skin already decorated with scars from just the past year. 

“Do you have volleyball practice tomorrow?”

“Only Mondays and Wednesdays. But tomorrow Peter invited me to hang out with him and Harry. Can I?” she sets her utensils on her empty plate, bits of broccoli still scattered on the surface.

“Again?” he raises his eyebrows. Little Macey giggles. 

Michelle sighs. “May and Ben are taking us to Roller City and then pizza.”

He purses his lips still chewing on his last piece of meat. “How are you doing in math?”

“I’m fine,” she answers, waiting for a beat to keep talking. “I’m doing a lot better.”

Math isn’t her best subject, that spot reserved for English, but Peter helps her in the mornings and during class when Ms. Lee lets the homework captains walk around and help people who raise their hands. Peter is always homework captain for math, just like how Michelle is for English.

“As long as you finish all your homework then you can go to Roller City with Peter and Harry.”

“And May and Ben.”

“And May and Ben,” he repeats her, chuckling to himself like he’s keeping a secret joke. Michelle pouts, Her dad never hides secrets from her. 

When she excuses herself from dinner, Michelle finds herself digging up her box of favorite things that she’s kept for years now. The very first things sitting on top are all the cards Peter’s given her on the same day every year, cards dressed in pretty colors and scribbled with the kindest words that would make her entire month better.

She never thought she’d face the day when they’d outgrow the cards that almost felt like a tradition. Now that they’re in the fifth grade, everyone has declared they’re too old to be handing out cards and she knows that tomorrow if Peter gives her a card, the entire class would tease him endlessly.

Their classmates always did - about his glasses, about his stamina, and about the way they think he follows Michelle like a puppy. But she and he both know that he doesn’t follow her around, that they’re both just happy with each other’s company. 

She might just fight anyone who tries to tell Peter otherwise. Peter deserves the best treatment because he treats everyone the best way he can despite people like Eugene who put him down for absolutely no reason.

Nostalgia crashes over her and she throws the cards back into the box, locking it away for the next time she allows herself to gush over her best friend. She buries her feelings deep down in her body, exercising it in the form of playful punches and teasing words, that way Peter will never know or feel weird about Michelle. 

So, in the fifth grade, Valentine’s Day comes and goes. Betty doesn’t bring her mom’s baked goods and Eugene’s driver is nowhere to be found, the wistful feeling of shared affection lost in their early childhood. And for the first time since she was 7, Michelle doesn’t wear the romantic hues of the holiday, sporting a plain grey hoodie and black jeans. 

When Ms. Lee opens up the floor to homework, Michelle holds her math card up high so Peter can rush over to her and help her on a problem, but they both knew it was an opportunity to sneak in a conversation in a usually silent classroom. 

“Hey,” he whispers, leaning over her shoulder as she pretends to point at a math problem, though she really could use some help on her decimal placements. “You ready for later?” 

“Yeah,” she whispers back. “Dad said I could go.” 

“Sweet,” he says. “Harry said he’s sure he passed his history test, so Mr. Osborn will let him go, too.” 

“I wish we were in Mr. Guiterrez’s class,” she whispers at an even lower level. “They get to talk.” 

“I know,” he points to her sheet of paper, feigning assistance. “But you’d be too distracting for me.” 

Michelle frowns. “Fine.” 

“I’m kidding, MJ.” Her heart jumps when he calls her the nickname he’d come up with, the nickname only he ever calls her, but she keeps her emotions still, preparing to deliver a nonchalant response.

“Whatever,” she huffs. “Go help someone else.”

“How can I when you’re hogging me?”

“No one wants to hog you,” she deadpans, Peter whipping out a pout that makes her snort. Ms. Lee looks up from her desk, and Peter shuffles away from her table, skipping away.

When she looks down, she finds a folded piece of lined paper tucked underneath her pencil box. Michelle unfolds it underneath the table as she makes sure no one watches. When she opens it, there’s an awfully drawn stick figure of her and Peter in what she makes out to be roller skates. 

_To my forever friend_

_No one I’d rather go roller skating with today. Happy Valentine’s day, MJ!_

_From yours_

She folds it carefully, tucking it into her back pocket to save for her box.

Time couldn’t go by any slower, Michelle tapping her pencil on her pencil box after finishing her last problem set. It’s 2:45 – 15 minutes. Three 5 minute intervals and she’s free. Free to go rush out of the door with Peter and meet up with Harry, free to rush over to Roller City and lose herself to the weekend of no homework and complete bliss.

But when they do run out, they rush over to Harry, who’s sitting on the curb of the parking loop in front of the principal’s office hunched over with a paper clutched in his hand. 

“I can’t go, guys,” Harry frowns, face in his palms. “I didn’t do well.” 

“What’d you get?”

“Got a B-,” he answers.

“That’s not bad at all!” Peter lightens the mood, but Harry’s shoulders continue to slump.

“If I don’t get straight A’s this year, I won’t have a GPA high enough to get into Midtown Intermediate.” 

“You want to go to Midtown?” Peter raises his eyebrows in shock. “They’re super strict there with school and stuff.”

“My dad’s making me. He wants me to go to Midtown Intermediate and Midtown High so I can get into a good college. And don’t _you_ want to go to a good college, Parker?” 

Peter presses his lips together, shrugging and scratching the back of his head. 

“Your dad thinks that far into the future?” Michelle asks. “I don’t even know what I’m having for dinner tomorrow.”

“He’s just like that,” Harry answers, brushing his hands through his messy hair. “I’m sorry I can’t go.” 

Peter sits next to him, slinging his arm around Harry’s neck. “It’s okay, Harry. Next time.” 

The moment he pats Harry on the back, a black Mercedes pulls up to the curb, Harry’s driver walking out of the front seat and opening the back door for him. Michelle, always having to wait inside the classroom before her father could pick her up to walk home together, never noticed that Harry had his own driver.

It was the first time Michelle realized she was completely different from Harry – different from a lot of her classmates, except for one. 

Peter still wants to go to Roller City and tells Michelle that it’ll still be fun with just the two of them. Michelle wants to tell him it’s actually going to be even better, but she refrains. 

And as they loop their arms around each other, clutching one another’s bodies for balance, the elation in Michelle’s heart has never felt so bright. From the books she’s read and the stories she’s heard about memories and love, Michelle understands what this feeling is – the feeling of never wanting this feeling to end. 

Her ribs feel sore and cheeks might cramp up from smiling so much as she watches Peter try to balance on his own in the middle of the rink, failing miserably as he plops on his butt, waving his arms to a concerned May and Ben, who peer through the glass from the metal tables.

Michelle rolls over towards Peter, bending her knees to check on him. 

“Do you wanna take a break?” she asks, extending her arm to pull him up. He takes the offer, nodding his head and rubbing his elbows from the fall. 

“This is harder than it looks,” he frowns, pushing his glasses to the bridge of his nose. Michelle ruffles the top of his head. 

“You just don’t have hand eye coordination,” she shrugs. “I’d know. I’m in–”

“Volleyball,” he deadpans. “I know, I know.” 

“Why don’t you do a sport at school?”

“I hate sports.” 

“I thought I did, too. But my dad learned from his therapist that it helps channel emotions,” she says. “It’s not that bad.” 

“I’d rather be in robotics or something,” he grumbles as they skate toward the exit and make their way towards a bench. 

“There’s no robotics in elementary school,” Michelle plops down first, facing away from the table. 

“I know,” Peter follows suit, double checking the elbow he landed on. “There’s no robotics in middle school either.”

“There is in Midtown,” she says. “I can’t believe Harry’s dad’s going to make him go to a snobby rich kid school.” 

“I bet it isn’t that bad,” Peter says. “If I could afford it…”

His sentence fades away before he finishes it, Michelle looking down at the cheap linoleum floor of the skating rink. Even just the idea of being in different schools as Peter hurt so much, Michelle recalling how hard it had been to keep up her friendship with Liz after she moved. 

“If you could afford it, you’d turn into one of those snobby smart kids that brag about how smart they are,” she huffs, knowing that Peter would never do such a thing but saying it anyway. 

“No I wouldn’t,” Peter fights back, a sound of hurt in his voice that makes Michelle immediately regret what she had spewed from her mouth. 

“Sorry,” she says. “But you promised we’d be best friends forever. And that’s not easy when we’re not in the same school.” 

“You’re making guesses over a situation that’s never gonna happen,” Peter nudges his shoulder against hers. She nudges back, arms still crossed. “Hey.” 

“What?” she turns to him.

“You know Uncle Ben tells me that the strongest bonds overcome the hardest obstacles.” 

“Yeah?” she looks into his eyes, mouth helplessly curling into a smile. “I like Uncle Ben’s advice.”

“Me too. And we were just watching reruns of Winne the Pooh, too. I thought of you.” 

“You did?”

“Yeah,” he flashes his teeth, Michelle reflecting the same smile. “We’re like Pooh and Piglet, you know?” 

“But I’m definitely Pooh,” she says. “You’re afraid of everything.”

“I know, I know,” he relents, hands burying into the pocket of his jeans. “I kept this in my pocket all day because I wanted to protect it.” 

He pulls out a silver, metal band. “I probably shouldn’t have fallen so much.” 

Peter places it in the palm of his hand, pushing it to Michelle. She picks it up, pulling it close to her face to read the embossed, _Forever_. 

“I have the one that says _Friends_ ,” he said, lifting his hand and showing a ring that Michelle didn’t even notice he was wearing. “There’s two holidays today.”

Michelle tilts her head after she places the ring carefully on her finger. “What?”

“Valentine’s day,” he says, standing up and offering her a hand. She takes it, lifting herself up. “And our friendaversary.” 

She fights her smile, biting her lips from the inside. 

“There’s that smile!” he snorts. “My favorite smile from my favorite friend.” 

If Michelle was older like the heroines in the novels she stayed up late reading, she’d lean into Peter and give him a kiss. But she shouldn’t, so she doesn’t, trailing behind him instead and watching him as he approaches his aunt and uncle pointing to Michelle and his side of the ring. 

“Do ya like it MJ?” May says pulling her into a side hug, the comforting touch of a motherly figure warming her heart. 

“I love it,” she says. 

“Do you love it more than pizza?” Ben purses his lips, Michelle putting her fingers on her chin in deep thought. “Sounds like it’s time for dinner.” 

After their stomachs are full of pepperoni and cheese and Michelle’s heart is full of love and belonging, Ben drives them back, the traffic of the streets slowing down their commute. Peter yawns, arms stretching to his front, his elbow probably still aching. He curls against Michelle, his head leaning on her shoulder – Michelle had grown inches throughout the years, towering over Peter with her long limbs. He always tells her he’ll catch up to her eventually, but Michelle secretly wishes he doesn’t because she loves the way his head rests perfectly against her shoulders. 

Both of them drift off into a quick nap, Ben waking them up as they reach Michelle’s apartment. Her dad and sister are already waiting in the front entrance when she steps out and Uncle Ben helps her get her backpack out of the trunk. He waves to her father as Michelle walks towards the apartment building, her little sister waddling to her for an embrace. 

“Chelley, chelley I lost a tooth today!” 

“Yay!” she responds, hugging her sister tight. She takes one look back, Peter peering out the window and waving her goodbye – pointing to his matching ring and mouthing, _forever_ as they drive away. 

“That boy’s gonna cause me big trouble in the future isn’t he?” her dad chuckles as he places a kiss on the top of her head. 

“It’s just Peter,” she says, still twisting the ring placed on her finger. Her dad hums, not saying anything as they climb the stairs to their apartment. 

“I like Peter,” Macey says. “He’s funny.” 

“He is,” Michelle agrees.

When they reach the apartment, she bolts into her room, burying his note from the pocket and reading it over again. She tucks the ring inside the box, noting to tell Peter she’d rather keep it safe than lose it somewhere lame like school.

That night, she closes her eyes shut and tries to get rid of the awful feeling in her heart that crept up on her the moment they waved goodbye. She misses Peter already, replaying the entire day in her head like a movie. 

But like a movie, things end. 

And when Peter gets a scholarship to go to Midtown Intermediate after getting a perfect score on his standardized testing, Ben and May don’t give him an option to decide.

And when he tells Michelle, she ignores him for a week until the last day of fifth grade, when they’re both the last ones in the classroom waiting to be picked up. 

“Peter?” she finally talks to him in what feels like years. 

“Yeah?” he answers immediately.

“We’ll still be friends forever,” she says, and the aura of the room feels brighter because she can tell he’s smiling even though her eyes stuck to the floor. 

“Forever!” he rushes to her and pulls her into a hug. Even though it feels like the last one, she hopes and prays that it’s not because Peter’s boney arms feel soft and his cold skin makes her feel warm.

It stings to say goodbye because she feels like she’ll know how this will end, Michelle never wanting a moment to pause so badly because it’s Peter Parker and he’s her best friend.

Forever. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting more soon (like one or two more chapters tomorrow)! Promise ♥


	4. four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, please pretend Liz is in their grade for the sake of this story. :-)

Michelle relaxes her shoulders, stretching in her desk chair after hunching over her sketchbook. She stretches her neck, rolling it around as she cracks her led-stained knuckles. In the last week of winter break, she spent her mornings, days, and nights filling up pages in her sketches, producing different drawings every day to distract her from the inevitable doom of transferring high schools in the middle of the school year.

But not just high school, _no._ She’s going to Midtown Science and Tech.

Home of the entitled. 

And it’s all because she never had a grade lower than an A+ in middle school and for an entire semester, her dad argued to the school district that the last time someone had a good enough GPA and standardized score, they got a scholarship. 

Michelle was okay with not going knowing that the education system is fucked regardless of the school you go to anyway, but her dad mentioned that she _needed_ to fight for her rights, to fight the institution that hinders her even harder just for being black. 

That sold her immediately, already imagining the look of the privileged kids that she surpasses in the Top Ten graduating list, promising to herself that she’d become valedictorian. 

Still, she’s nervous, which is why she spent most of the holidays in the isolation of her bedroom losing herself in her favorite hobby, her dad and sister knowing not to bother her when her door is closed and her speakers blasting 2000’s R&B. 

Her mood spirals every second she thinks of the first day of school and how she’ll be thrust into a crowd of students that know each other from Midtown Intermediate, only recalling a few names of the kids she used to go to elementary with.

Except she remembers one person more vividly than the others. 

A person she hadn’t thought about since seventh grade – the first year she had been without him by her side. 

Michelle can’t even say his name without wanting to run into her closet and dig up all the things that she still kept. For the memories. 

Peter and Michelle tried their best to keep their promise through phone calls and a few hangouts outside of school. But Peter started to make more friends at Midtown and Michelle’s envy got the best of her, her biggest problem always shutting out the people she cares about the most due to her insecurity of feeling overbearing to everyone. 

Their friendship faded away quickly, as all fleeting friendships are in one’s adolescent years. It was the last promise Michelle made with anyone before promising herself that she shouldn’t expect anyone to try with her – which is why she had a hard time making friends, feeling like second grade without Liz Allan all over again who _apparently_ goes to Midtown, too. 

It’s like her past was plotting to haunt her, which is why she swears to herself that she’ll go through high school without talking to anyone if she didn’t need to, reserving her energy for things that mattered like classes and the one extracurricular that she cared about: Academic Decathlon, Midtown being the only school in their district that have been reigning champions for years. 

So she definitely didn’t want to see Peter Parker in his damn glasses and stupid smile that Michelle swore to try to forget, but she failed because forgetting Peter Parker is the one thing that she’s ever failed at. 

Except, as soon as Michelle starts school, Peter’s a little different. He’s chest is puffier and even underneath all of the unnecessary layers, she can tell he has muscles. And did he get contacts? Or does he walk around blindly and that’s why he shuffles around like he’s about to bump into someone?

He’s always been _shy,_ if Michelle can recall, but there’s something in the way that he paces back and forth in a concentrated silence through the halls only acknowledging his friend, Ned, that she finds out is his only one when she catches them eating lunch together alone in the cafeteria.

However, this behavior was peculiar. At first, she had thought it was because he was afraid of her now, afraid of the way her face deadpans when it rests – afraid of the way he waved at her awkwardly and she just nodded in acknowledgment. 

Michelle couldn’t help but be cold because by being cold, she wouldn’t develop the feelings she had buried within herself during her prepubescent years. But she can’t be cold to someone who’s turned into an absent-minded floater that looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks. 

It’s unfair that she doesn’t even have the chance to give Peter the inexplicable cold shoulder she’s been practicing for all of winter break. Maybe she hates him. Maybe she’s the one that didn’t try hard enough to sustain their friendship that ended in an empty promise engraved on a metal piece of junk. 

Junk that Michelle never threw away.

But just in a week of coming back, she notices that Peter’s not just ignoring her. 

He’s never there. 

Always absent. 

Surely, this is just a weird _thing_ because Peter never missed class. Or maybe he did turn into the Midtown snob she accused him of years ago. Then she’d be right. And Michelle’s always right. 

But this behavior is funky. So she does what she does best and investigates. 

She plops her backpack on the chair in front of this Ned guy when Peter’s not with him at lunch, which he almost never was in the week that Michelle had taken residency at their school.

“Hi,” Ned says, eyes wide. “You’re new here right?”

“Yeah,” she waves her hands, brushing that statement like it’s an afterthought. Unimportant, unlike the one she’s asking. “You’re friends with Parker?”

“Peter?” he responds, voice chirpy and bright. “Yeah, he’s my best buddy. Why?”

“Has he always been like that?” 

“Like what?” 

“Weird, quiet. Not here.” 

“Weird and quiet? Yeah. Not here? No,” Ned answers. “He has a bad fever.” 

“Oh,” Michelle presses her lips together, feeling like a jerk for making crazy assumptions about him.

“He said it’s not like the flu. Something worse.” 

“Okay,” she accepts the answer, still standing as Ned takes another mouthful of his sandwich. 

“It all started last week when we went on a chemistry field trip. He said he might have caught something from all the weird chemicals or whatever.” Another bite of his sandwich. “You can sit down here if you want.” 

She considers it for a beat, shaking her head as she’s made her final decision knowing that he’d bombard her with questions about how she knows Peter if she decides to tuck herself into the seat. “I’m good.” 

Michelle walks away, not bothering to look back at Ned, embarrassed about her encounter, cheeks almost flushed though she never blushes. 

She sits in the library, picking at the crumbs left at the bottom of her Doritos bag.

Peter’s just sick. Why is she so concerned? She isn’t concerned. Nope. 

He’ll get better, he’ll have that pep in his step like he always did when they were eleven years old, and she’ll start her master plan of _nonchalance_ once everything goes back to normal.

Except that it doesn’t.

Because that Friday evening after a long and social anxiety-inducing week of trying to blend into Midtown’s sea of students, Michelle sits curled up on the couch next to Macey and her dad as breaking news interrupts their outdated television set.

_Ben Parker, 52, resident of Forest Hills, Queens, fatally shot in an attempt to stop a robbery._

Everything feels blurry. Michelle could faint at this minute, if not for the way her father immediately grabs her hand and squeezes it three times, keeping her anchored.

She thinks about Peter. She’s always thinking about Peter.

He doesn’t show up to school the next three weeks – which is probably a good thing because after the weekend Michelle returns to the hallways and hears whispers and buzz about him and his uncle. Whispers of concern or whispers of gossip, both making Michelle feel uneasy about the way Peter’s name is being tossed around like he’s some kind of TV drama character.

She wants to tell them off – all of them – for spreading news like it’s no big deal like it’s the new topic of the week and not the fact that someone’s actual life has slipped away too soon, the life belonging to a man who raised Peter like his own.

It’s the first week of February when Peter comes back, whispers reigniting the minute he steps foot in the hallway.

He ignores them.

He sits with Ned like he had been the day Michelle first stepped into the cafeteria. She takes refuge a table away, cornered alone and hiding behind a book. Peter’s quiet, listening intently about Ned animatedly talking about some new masked hero appearing out of nowhere, stopping car accidents or trapping thieves against brick building walls. 

Michelle’s heard about Spider-Man. About the vigilante that looks out for the little guy.

She thinks he’s pretty cool for laying low and not messing around with the Avengers – who are currently doing as much press as they can to cover up the destruction in Sokovia. 

Though the homemade sweatsuit is a little childish.

Ned gets up to throw his trash away and use the bathroom, from what Michelle overhears. She takes a deep breath, walking over to Peter as she disregards her initial plans to avoid him.

“Hey,” she says.

“MJ,” his dull eyes brighten. “You go to Midtown.”

“Who would have thought?” she shrugs, disregarding the fact that he hasn't really talked to her all that much knowing that the grief he's going through had Peter tunnel visioning to himself. He needs to think about himself, it's something that he hadn't been able to do since they learned how to properly tie their own shoes. “And no one really calls me MJ anymore.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s cool, Parker.” She sits down in front of him. She doesn’t want to talk about Ben, Michelle knowing that’s all he’s probably been asked about since returning from his leave of absence. “I watched _The Force Awakens_ last month with my little sister.”

“Macey?” he recalls. “She likes _Star Wars?_ ”

“Almost more than you, nerd.” 

“Cool,” he smiles. “She can have my lunch box. I don’t use it anymore.” 

“As if she doesn’t already have her own.” 

He chuckles, running his hands through his unkempt hair. “It’s been a while, huh?” 

“Yeah.”

The silence is slowly starting to become painful, Michelle not knowing what to bring up while fighting back tears from thinking about Ben. Peter’s question stops her in the nick of time. “Does this mean we’re best friends again?” 

She laughs. “I don’t really do friends anymore.” 

“Oh,” he says. “Okay.” 

“It’s okay. I just… I don’t know how to _do_ friends. At least not yet.” 

“I guess that’s understandable.” 

“But it’s okay. You know why?” 

Peter looks up from his untouched food, eyes meeting with Michelle’s in a way that makes the strings in her heart carry a rhythm of nostalgia. “A wise man once said that the strongest bonds overcome the hardest obstacles.” 

Tears well up in her eyes as she says it. 

Tears fall down Peter’s cheek as he hears it. 

“So no matter what happens and even if I’m not a friend-type of person, you won’t really be able to get rid of me,” she presses her lips. He blinks away the hurt. 

“I won’t?” he asks. 

She nods. “You won’t.” 

The bell for classes rings and Michelle motions to the hallway, saying goodbye without speaking. 

She guesses she did something right that day, feeling good about herself for being there for Peter and setting a boundary for herself in which she doesn’t fall for him all over again, making it known to him that she’s there for him. 

Michelle gives him a lot of room. She sits a table away from him at lunch, observes him from afar – her action not unlike how their friendship all started years ago, wanting to build up her own courage to fling herself into his life once he finds peace with it first. 

Her presence is around in the shadows, the way she likes it despite the way he doesn’t look at her the same way he did when they were little. Every time Peter turns to her, he nods in quick acknowledgment with a little grin that Ned doesn’t notice because he’s too busy talking about the next big thing in technology. 

But she keeps those looks in her mind, storing them like energy she’ll use when the time comes. It’s all Michelle thinks she needs until she opens her locker on the morning of February 14th and a tacky Valentine’s Day card falls to the floor. 

She picks it up, tearing the heart-shaped sticker carefully, her heart soaring with the flashback of promises and gooey messages. 

_To Michelle_

_You won’t be able to get rid of me either._

_From Peter, your old friend._

Suddenly, that message is more than enough for her to hold onto the connection they’ll always have. Michelle locks it in with the other notes that have slowly faded away with age. 

Although it sits there untouched, Michelle keeps it close to her heart. 

Even when she watches him watch Liz Allan when sophomore year starts. 

Even when she realizes that he still disappears often and never spends more time than he needs to on campus. 

Even when they’re in DC and it hits her that Peter Parker is Spider-Man. 

And then, finally, as Michelle sits in front of him in the library after she’s named the new Academic Decathlon team captain, she finds that she has enough energy to finally come back to him as more than a past memory. 

“My friends call me MJ,” she announces. 

“I thought you didn’t have any friends?” Ned asks. 

“I didn’t…” she answers, eyes turning to Peter, who’s already looking at her like she’s said a miraculous, unbelievable thing. 

For that fleeting moment, the shared glance between them resets everything that she can remember before he left her side. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more!! 
> 
> <3


	5. five

Michelle comes back from the Blip the same way she came out, laying curled up in her bed reading  _ When They Call You a Terrorist _ while the world outside of her room booms with chaos, cars crashing into cars and screams of both reunion and chaos echoing throughout the night sky. 

There isn’t much Michelle knows with what happened, only recalling that Tony Stark had disappeared and wondering if Peter disappeared with him. 

As she scans her surroundings, Michelle comes to a realization that she hadn’t been gone for long – her room being exactly how it was before she faded away to dust. She gets up from her twin bed, towards the closed door, halting as the familiar and chaotic sound of breaking news streaming on the television. For some reason, it compels Michelle to press her ears to the door, trying to get in as much information as she can.

“ _ –it’s madness in the streets of New York City as those we lost from the Blip return in perfect condition, unscathed from whatever caused the disappearance of 50% of the population in the first place–”  _

_ “–reports are saying that the Avengers, Earth’s Mightiest Heroes, have teamed up with intergalactic beings to fight–”  _

_ “–Tony Stark has died. The billionaire superhero sacrificed–”  _

Michelle swings the door open. A mug shatters on the ground. The TV shuts off. 

“Chelle?” her father’s voice cracks and his eyes widening like he’s seen a ghost. Footsteps come from the kitchen, younger woman walking out, rushing to Michelle with open arms. 

“Oh my God, you’re here, you’re real,” the woman says, arms scooping Michelle and squeezing her tight. Michelle doesn’t hug the stranger back.

“Who are you?” Michelle asks after the lady backs away, tears streaming down her face.

“It’s me… Macey,” she answers. Michelle’s heart drops. 

How long was she gone?

She tucks Macey’s hair behind her ear, Michelle’s fingers trembling as she does so. “Macey…”

They embrace, their father rushing to them after the revelation. It almost feels the same, except her little sister is her big sister and her father’s beard has more grey hairs and there are pictures Michelle has never seen before propped on the walls of her own home. And as they hold onto her, she realizes that nothing will ever be the same from this moment moving forward, that everything is different – her family, her friends, culture, history,  _ everything _ . 

Dying is strange, and coming back from the dead is even stranger. 

Michelle can handle it though. There’s almost nothing that Michelle can’t handle with her fierce attitude and determination to come out on top.

_ Almost _ nothing. Because there’s one thing that came out of the Blip – one thing that Michelle doesn’t know how to tackle on like the strong woman she is, and it’s the way Peter Parker looks at her with delicate eyes, always a beat after she looks at him. 

She knows Peter has always looked at her from as far as she can remember. 

But not like this. Not like she’s the only thing in his view. And it makes her nervous because she wants to return that same look, but she doesn’t want to return it without knowing exactly how he feels. Even though they’ve started to spend more time together junior year after Michelle allowed herself to be open to him, there was still a secret behind his glossy eyes that she  _ needed _ to figure out. 

Fortunately, Peter doesn’t make it all that difficult to crack the code. Because he stutters when she teases him and spaces out when she looks directly in his eyes as they talk, and damn Michelle wishes she wasn’t so afraid to actually do something about it because, Peter Parker has a crush on her and he’s not hiding it at all. 

She’s scared because it’s only an assumption, and if she ever speaks it into existence, he could say no, he could call her crazy for thinking that he’d ever like her, and the friendship that she’d worked so hard to be comfortable about all over again would fall apart just like that. 

That’s why she changes the subject on the bridge in Prague, Michelle blurting out that she knows he’s Spider-Man. And the look on Peter’s face when she says that’s the only reason she watches him tears her apart. 

And right when she’s about to take it all back, to tell him that she’s been in love with him since they were six fucking years old, a stupid villain gets in the way. This is what she gets for falling for a superhero. 

But her patience lucks out. 

Because as soon as she runs out of the Crown Jewels vault with a mace in her hand and a broken necklace in the other, Michelle finds herself in Peter’s arms, tears running down her face at the sight of his bruises and cuts. 

“I really like you.”

“I really like you, too.” 

The little proclamation is a song that she can put on repeat for the rest of her life. 

Because those four words that came from Peter’s mouth on that summer day were four words that Michelle had been hoping, wishing, and thinking about for nine years – nothing coming close to topping it. 

“What are you thinking about?” Peter asks, leaning back against the brick wall on the roof of her apartment building, months after their hijacked summer vacation.

“You,” she smiles. “Us.” 

“Yeah?” he put his arm around her, pulling her close. They had just finished dinner, the rosy sky slowly setting on their favorite holiday. He presses a kiss to her forehead, Michelle accepting Peter’s pizza-sauce-stained lips.

“Always.” 

“I always think about us, too.” 

“I know,” she giggles. “What do you think about?”

“I think about…” he ponders for a beat. “About how we’ve known each other in different stages of our life… Like I mean, this is basically our second life, if you think about it.” 

“I guess you’re right, Parker,” she nods in agreement. 

“I can’t believe you just said  _ I  _ was right,” he gasps. She nudges him. 

“I can take it back.”

“Okay, okay,” he laughs. “The past half a year has been… a rollercoaster. And you’ve been there for me through it all, despite me trying to push you away the first few months because I thought you’d get hurt.”

“I told you, I’m there with you the entire time. You’re so stubborn,” she pouts.

“I’m not stubborn!” he argues. She narrows her eyes at him. “Let me just… let me finish this.” 

“Okay.” 

“Every year on this day, except for when we were apart, I’ve always given you something because it kind of became this tradition for us. It’s my favorite day with you because I think every Valentine’s Day has marked a step further into our relationship. But this year I couldn’t because I was busy–”

“Hiding from the cops before Pepper could expose Quentin Beck for the asshole that he is?” 

“Yeah,” Peter scratches the back of his neck, “yeah, that.” 

“I don’t care if you didn’t get me a Valentine’s Day gift, Peter,” Michelle says, her hand moving to clutch her black dahlia necklace that she never takes off as a reminder that Peter has already done so much more than he needs to to make her happy.

“This gift is different, though, MJ.” 

“Is it?” 

“Yeah.” He takes a deep breath, releasing his arms from around her neck to turn his body completely towards her. “MJ… I…” 

Her eyes are already welling up with tears – happy ones. Different from the ones she’s shed from trying to cope with the consequential changes she’s faced since coming back from the Blip. These tears mark a feeling of release, a feeling that her life is slowly going back to normal alongside her favorite person in the entire world. 

“I love you,” he completes his sentence. And although it’s not tangible, not something she can lock away in her favorite box, it’s quite possibly the best Valentine’s gift he’s ever given to her. Because, despite all that’s changed, Peter was always there to hold onto as a constant. 

Peter was always there, and he always will be there for Michelle.

And as the last pink cloud disappears from the sky, the starry night slowly casting itself over the two of them, Michelle presses a kiss to his lips.

“I love you, too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this chapter's short, I just wrote all that I had to say in this one in less words. :)
> 
> Thank you for all the comments, I appreciate it and will be replying to all of them soon!


	6. plus one

“I’m not _quite_ sure I understand this section of your research paper, Ms. Jones.”

Deep breath, Michelle. This is fine. “How? I thought I made my analysis quite clear.” 

It’s only two months into the semester, but it’s her second time in a class taught by Professor Stevens, who – Michelle has learned – does not like her very much. Typically, Michelle does her best to avoid professors that she can’t stand after one lecture, but with her new internship at _The ESU Post_ , her job at the coffee shop, and picking up an art minor, there wasn’t much room in her schedule to be flexible. 

Professor Stevens isn’t too bad, she said. 

One more semester won’t hurt, she said. 

She was wrong. _Quite_ wrong. Because, with a red pen and several comments later, Professor Stevens has shat on her entire mood. Her entire writing career, honestly. And as he goes on pointing out “unnecessary” stylistic choices that make her conclusion more “confusing”, all she can think about is going into her apartment and crawling next to her roommate, best friend, and boyfriend Peter Parker. 

He’d definitely cheer her up – in _their_ apartment. They had moved in together in September after months of searching for affordable and tolerable housing as well as finding the courage to tell Ned that it was time she and Peter lived together alone, both of them knowing that once they finally finish their last year at ESU, they’d re-lease the same apartment until the floor was worn out and the space had been lived in for too long. Or, Michelle thinks, until they can actually afford decent housing in New York freakin’ City. 

“–and that’s why I gave you a 3 on the rubric, which is a 78 percent. I hope you understand now how my grading works.” 

“Hm,” she nods.

“This is the second time you’ve been in my class, Ms. Jones. You should be well aware of my grading scale.” 

“Fine,” she relents, giving up on any hope to get her grade up from a B- to a B, missing the days in high school wear those little symbols didn’t affect your overall. But that’s about the only thing she misses from Midtown anyway. That, and being Academic Decathlon captain and being able to lead a team of intelligent and diverse kids, ESU being a majority of kids with rich parents and white professors with tenure because they’re... _white_. 

“I wouldn’t worry too much about this paper, it’s the first one and you still have a ways to go with this semester,” he offers a smile that just feels racist. 

“Sure,” Michelle pushes the seat, ready to leave office hours and head to the _ESU Post_ headquarters where her peers actually support what she writes. She needs a pick me up before heading home or else she’ll barge into the apartment with a mood that she can’t control and — knowing Peter — he’d take it personally despite having been together for years with Michelle telling him that she just needs to _cool down_ before relaying to him why her day sucked so bad. 

Still, there was something about today specifically that made Michelle feel like she was missing something, that in her To Do List, between the lines of all the tasks she makes sure to jot down from her planner, there was an errand or responsibility she had to get done that she wasn’t remembering.

And it’s bothering her. 

Michelle blames it on her acute anxiety relative to all the commitments she’s braced herself for, brushing off the strange feeling in the back of her head and labeling it as her mind playing tricks on her since she’s always (usually) on top of accomplishing all she sets herself up for.

She’s just tired and out of it. Thursdays were her busiest days: three 50-minute lectures back to back, three hour shift at the café, and mandatory hours at the _Post_. Usually, Michelle had a little gap in between the café and the newspaper, but she had decided to use that precious hour to speak with her professor in hopes for a grade change.

Feeling defeated and hopeless, she gets a phone call from Peter. 

“Hey,” she answers, straight and toneless.

“What’s wrong?” Peter asks, Michelle almost hearing him pout. “Office hours didn’t go well, huh?” 

“Not at all.” 

“It’s okay, Em. He’s stupid because you impress literally every other professor you’d ever had with your writing. You’re so popular in the sociology department, and I bet he’s just one of those professors that try to crack all the good people.” 

“Sure,” she huffs, phone tucked in between her ear and shoulder as she stuffs the useless, scribbled on research paper back in her worn out backpack before heading down the stairs. 

Through her phone, she hears obnoxious honking, Peter’s voice starting to become muffled from the wind. He must be on patrol. She asks, “Slow day?”

“I helped an old Dominican lady with directions,” he returns. “She got me a churro.” 

“I love that for you,” she laughs. “I just can’t wait to be done with the day.”

“Me neither. Today’s important,” he says. “I have a lot of things that I need to do before you get home.” 

She thinks about the draining list of homework and study items she has to get done for the weekend, the first round of midterms coming up. “Same. I’m so stressed, Pete.” 

“Don’t worry! Everything will all be okay. I promise. Come night time, you won’t even remember why the day was so bad.”

“You better promise me that, Parker,” she smiles as she speaks into her phone, not even caring that she looks like a grinning idiot to the passersby. “I missed you this morning.” 

“I know,” he responds with a touch of sorrow, “I’m really upset I missed this morning, too. But I’ll make it up tonight.”

Michelle tilts her head as if Peter can see her. Her boyfriend’s a drama queen, but his tone of voice was a little _too_ extra considering that there have been many mornings where Peter would have a late night patrol due to him and Ned trying to catch whatever villain has been corrupting the streets of their hometown. 

“Okay,” she accepts, not being one to shy away from Peter’s promises. Earlier in their relationship, Michelle accepted the fact that she’d come home to surprises, promises, and endless affection from Peter on the daily. Receiving so much romantic love had been an unfamiliar feeling for Michelle before, Peter being the only boy she had ever laid her eyes on in that way. In fact, it was unfamiliar for the both of them, which made her feel more at ease because they were both able to learn and grow with each other. 

They’d had their share of fights, but they powered through them all – they had defied the odds that were set against them ever since they found themselves in each other’s arms on the Tower Bridge. 

It feels so long ago now, Michelle laughing at the fact the way they used to steal glances from one another in hopes that the other wasn’t looking (they were both looking). What feels even longer is the old friendship that was once buried away, locked in a box of old memories that Michelle never knew how to let go of – but sometimes letting go isn’t necessary when what you’ve got is all you want.

Each little piece of nostalgia became a visceral reminder of how much she loves Peter so, _so_ much.

As she reaches the door to her internship office, she bids goodbye to Peter and takes one, last exasperated breath before bracing herself for another set of meetings and drafts.

Surprisingly, the copy editor has no significant remarks for her paper, commenting on a few grammatical errors while also praising how great of a writer Michelle is. But because she’s an intern, her article being printed in next week’s newspaper issue isn’t guaranteed. Seemingly, nothing in Michelle’s life is set it stone, and being a nearly graduating senior, everything feels fleeting – so many what if’s in the air that Michelle refuses to think about.

At the end of her internship hours, Michelle slips on her heavy coat and braces herself for the chilly weather, the last bits of winter clinging onto the air refusing to transition into the allergy-laiden spring season. 

It’s been _A Day._ And of course, with the luck that she has, the luck that she blames Peter for passing onto her when they got together, rain starts pouring down on the streets as she heads home with no umbrella, ruining her hair washing schedule and her favorite pair of jeans that she had _just_ washed last Sunday. 

Her tears of frustration and stress blend in with the drops of rain casting down on her, vision nearly blurry as she refuses to wipe the tears away and accept the defeat of how shitty these past 24 hours have been. Breaking down on the subway home is something Michelle can still handle through deep breaths and her head down, hiding her face from the pregnant lady and her toddler that wouldn’t stop bothering her with questions about the rain. 

But the one thing that makes her want to pull her hair out, makes her want to slam her backpack on the floor rather than placing it properly on the dinner table chair, is the fact that the moment she tries to unlock her apartment door, she drops her fucking keys on the ground. 

She leaves the keys lingering there, dropping to the dirty hallway floor, leaning against the wall opposite to the doorway, giving up every silver lining that she did her best to squeeze out of this horrid day. 

As Michelle drapes her arms around her knees, head resting down, she hears the creaky doorknob turn, a small release of breath, and the silent thump of socks hitting the wooden floor coming closer to her. 

“Em,” he says, crouching down and brushing his hand on the top of her head, lips following shortly after. “Let’s go inside.” 

She sniffles, making sure her tears absorb into her long sleeve before looking up and seeing her boyfriend’s loving eyes casting over her. “Okay.”

“We’ll get you dry,” Peter says as he wraps his arms around her, leaning closer to whisper, “and then I’ll get you wet again.” 

That comment gets a playful shove, Peter brushing it off with a snicker as they enter the living room. And when they do, Michelle walks into a candle-lit kitch-living room (as Peter deemed it when they first moved in). The table is dressed with flower petals – not of roses, but of dahlias. A pasta dinner is set for two and in the middle a board full of Michelle’s favorite cheeses.

“What’s all this for?” she mumbles, still sniffling and somewhat nervous she’ll get a cold from running in the rain. 

“Wait,” Peter pauses. “I’ve been talking about it all day.” 

“What?”

He laughs. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Em.” 

Her smile falls, this surprise from Peter suddenly turning into a guilt trip. Immediately, Peter notices the shift in her eyes and the quivering pout that’s on the verge of becoming whole. “I’m… I’m so sorry, Pete, it’s been a long day and I had to wake up so early and I forgot and I just–” 

He hushes her, strong arms enveloping her entire body again. “I understand, Em, it’s okay.”

“No, no, it’s not,” she breaks away from his embrace, pacing back and forth. This is our day, and your favorite, and I’m such a terrible girlfriend.”

“Hey, hey,” he softly stops her babbling. “You know that’s not true!”

“I didn’t get you anything.”

“I don’t need anything,” he kisses her forehead. “I have you.” She feels the tug of her lips. “Not that I _have_ you…”

“I get it,” she snorts. “I still feel bad.”

“Let’s just eat dinner okay? And worry about everything else after,” he helps her take off her soaked coat. 

As Peter stabs his fork through the fettuccine pasta, shoving a mouthful of his second plate into his mouth, Michelle watches him in awe, never getting tired of looking at him, of sitting in _her_ seat watching Peter in _his._ Sometimes, when Michelle watches Peter get lost in his own little world, she’s reminded of the reason why she was so intrigued with him – how he struts through life without caring about the people who slander him.

His resilience shines around him bringing an aura that Michelle can’t help being elated around. Because Peter makes her forget about every single negative feeling she’s ever felt. He’s there for her and always will be.

Then it clicks. A clank of her fork hitting her plate snaps Peter out of his own thoughts, eyes of concern following Michelle as she nearly jumps up from her seat, bolting to their bedroom and shutting the door behind her. She makes her way to their shared closet, finding the shoe box that’s labeled “DO NOT TOUCH. (That means you, Parker).” 

She opens the lid, rummaging through pink and red faded cards and ink-smudged scribbles from her childhood, all gifted by the very person standing outside their bedroom who’s knocking rapidly. 

“Is everything okay?” his muffled voice asks. 

“Mhm,” she answers, her tears of stress now tears of joy and love as she reads and re-reads the little words that meant so much to her when she was six, seven, eleven, and onward. 

“Can I come in?” His question makes her laugh because it’s _their_ bedroom, yet he still wants to make sure that it’s okay. Before she answers, she digs through the box and finds what she had been looking for, what she hadn’t thought about for a while but knew she would always return to. 

“Yeah,” she nearly whispers but knows Peter can hear her. He slowly opens the door and she positions herself on the carpet floor that they’ve both gotten too lazy to vacuum. When he’s out of the doorway and closer to her, he kneels down too.

“I have a gift for you,” she says, arms behind her back and hiding the gift. He sits across from her on the floor, criss-crossed as he sifts through the cards – his own memories flashing across his face. 

“You kept all of these?” he’s at a loss for words.

“Yes,” she answers. “I knew I’d want them forever.” He looks at her and smiles as Michelle segues, “Speaking of forever…”

“What?”

“I know I don’t have a gift,” she says, “and I know that you definitely love Valentine’s day more than I do, but you’re forgetting that there’s two holidays today.” 

Peter tilts his head, curious.

“It’s our friendaversary,” she answers. “And I want to commemorate it.” 

He laughs, clutching his heart at the sudden reminder of their childhood holiday. “How would you like to do that?” 

“Well we always talk about _forever,_ ” she bites her lips, feeling the cheesiest she’s ever felt, but with Peter it really doesn’t matter. “How about we commit to it?” 

She holds out the little metal band that Peter had once given her, embedded with the very words they repeat to each other every single day.

He reads the little carving on the ring, tears rolling down his face. “Is this..”

“Let’s get married, Parker.” 

“Yes,” he laughs. “ _Yesyesyesyes_.” 

He peppers kisses on her cheeks, forehead, nose, and lips. She laughs, feeling tickled by his alfredo-stained kisses, Peter tackling her gently as the two end up on the floor, Peter’s legs on either side of her body. 

“Look at that smile. I love your smile,” Peter declares. 

“You know, you’re my best friend,” she looks into his eyes, more serious than ever. “I really love you.” 

“I really love you, too,” he kisses her again, Peter lifting himself off from above her and lying next to her on the carpet. He holds the ring up against the dim fluorescent lights. “Not too shabby, Jones.” 

“I try, I try,” she jokes. “But we should probably get a better fitting one.” 

“I guess,” he shrugs, leaning his head on her shoulder. “I’m okay with it, though. I’m okay with anything if it’s with you. Forever.” 

“Yeah,” she rests her head on top of his. And what she says next is more for herself than for Peter, knowing that this three-syllable word is a confirmation of everything she’s ever felt about the boy she’s always loved,

_“Forever.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Twitter: @spideysmjs / Tumblr: @briens


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